I’ll readily admit it: I get giddy when I return from the bathroom to find Annette O’Toole standing behind my saved place in line, looking all tiny and skinny and eagerly awaiting husband Michael McKean’s improvisational take on Steve Wynn in the premiere of poker-tourney satire The Grand. Or when Ray Romano takes a really, really long time to take his reserved seat in the Golden Nugget showroom, where said premiere is premiering. Thinking that’s David Cross munching popcorn back and to the left, only it turns out it’s really not him? Still giddy. Caught in an escalator sandwich between Jason Alexander and Richard Kind? Completely giddiful. Chris Parnell smiling my way at The Grand’s Golden Nugget pool party = giddied to death. Noting how the famous types in the party gawk and point at fish in the clear central tank, even as tourists out in the hallway gawk and point at them through the clear walls? Pensive. But remembering there’s nine more days of this ridiculously superficial crap ahead, and it’s right back to giddy. – Julie Seabaugh